


Friction

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Discipline, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 3: spanking. Sam fouls up royally on a hunt, and Dean punishes him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friction

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. Here lies porn. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment.

Dean paced before the small fire, staring into it, remembering. As soon as Sam came back up from the river, he was going to pound him into the dirt again. Should’ve told him not to bother cleaning up. He tried to ground out his anger, imagining his father doing it, all those years – he’d seen the man counting under his breath often enough.

It kept going through his head though, the image of Sam leaping into his line of fire. Damned if this wasn’t the first time he’d done it, either. Sam had been a gangling sixteen year old the last time, impulsive and angry, and disobeyed an order from John, just like he’d disregarded Dean’s barked command to stay put tonight. Sam had lunged after the spirit with a dagger, right as Dean pulled the trigger on the crossbow. The charmed arrow had caught the spirit – after driving a furrow along Sam’s left shoulder. The wound itself wasn’t serious. Sam had taken the first aid kit with him, and Dean had no doubt that his brother would have disinfected and bandaged the wound before he came back, not wanting to press the issue with Dean any further. Smart kid – but not smart enough.

A coal popped in the fire, and Dean flinched as it sparked the memory of the aftermath of the first incident. Dean’s fist clenched. Well, it worked for Dad, maybe it would serve him just as well to jog Sam’s memory, because he sure as shit wasn’t waiting for three days for Dad to catch up and make the point. He listened, rose when he heard Sam start back up the path. He slipped behind a tree.

Sam walked heavily enough, that’s for sure, but then again, the spirit would have cleared the woods for miles. It would take the wildlife days to make it back into the area. It was simply Sam’s way of letting Dean know it was him. Well, he’d have a thing or two to say about that as well. For now, though…

He grabbed his brother and wrestled him over by the edge of the firelight. Sam never did well when surprised. Dean let the fact that Sam had dropped his guard, coming back to camp further fuel his anger. He managed to drop down on an enormous log on the edge of camp, and pinned Sam down over his lap. It was a good thing they were so many miles in, because the yelling might carry. Or not, he thought, glancing at the towering pines over their heads.

“Do you know how close I came to shooting you tonight?”

“I told you I was sorry, fucker! Let me the hell up!”

“Not a chance, Sammy. You remember Maine, when you jumped in front of Dad when he was firing at that werewolf?”

“What the – you are NOT going there Dean-“ It took a minute to get his brother further restrained. Sam would dislocate both shoulders if he bucked any more and knew it, was forced to settle down.

“We’re definitely going there, Sam.” He whisked down Sam’s sweatpants, and making sure Sam was bent over his left knee, Dean used his right leg to pin Sam’s legs down. Sam’s cute ass was tipped at just the right angle. “Do you even understand that six inches over, and I’d have put that bolt through your heart? I told you to stay DOWN, dammit – why the hell did you lunge for it?”

“I thought…”

“You thought what.”

“Thought it was coming for you,” Sam said, more a question than an answer.

“Did you not look and see that I had the crossbow loaded?”

“Uh…”

Dean abandoned the discussion, now understanding the full extent of Sam’s carelessness, and laid into Sam’s behind with the palm of his hand as fast and hard as he could. Sam yelped and twisted underneath him, he’d let up the pressure on Sam’s arms to give him a little leeway - only piece of Sam he wanted to damage was his ass. The spanks rained furiously down, and Dean was aware that his hand was starting to sting. He could see the color of Sam’s ass changing, felt grimly satisfied. He listened to Sam’s angry exclamations morph to pained ones, and then into pleading, resolutely ignored them. Dean focused his anger into the swats, focused his fear there, and he finally heard what sounded like a choked sob from Sam. Good. He kept spanking, though his arm was tiring, until the sounds were unmistakable – Sam in tears that he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He released his hold, and Sam just laid there, still sobbing, and gave an extra whimper as Dean replaced the sweats and eased Sam upright. Not surprisingly, he couldn’t get his baby brother to look him in the eyes. He took a deep breath, stood up, and then pushed Sam down onto the seat he’d just abandoned, wincing inwardly at Sam’s yelp, and steeling himself against the sobbing. He knelt down in front of the boy so they were eye to eye, and then reached out to brush some of the tears away, brought Sam’s chin up to look at him.

“Dammit, Sam,” he breathed, “I could have killed you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You don’t ever do that again, Sammy, I can’t lose you.” His voice was rough. Their foreheads touched together, and he wrapped his arms around his Sam. Dean blinked back the tears in his own eyes. He kept Sam in his arms until the sound of the tears ceased, and Sam couldn’t keep from fidgeting.

He let Sam up, walked him back to the warmth of the fire. There was no place to sit but on the ground, on the tarp that Dean laid out to keep the damp from getting to them. He pointed, and Sam gave him an agonized look, then sat down, Indian style. Dean sank down next to him, watching him squirm.

“I’m sorry,” Sam offered after a lengthy silence, watching the fire completely consume a log.

“I know,” Dean said. “I’m not.”

They sat in silence for a while. “Did you have to- to – to well, spank me?”

“Seemed to get the point across seven years ago – seven years is not a particularly long time. Besides, bet that will seem like nothing when Dad gets hold of you.”

“You don’t think he’d…”

“Dunno. I’d say you’re gonna find out.” Dean was pretty sure Dad would live up to his prediction. Sam groaned, confirming his opinion. Making sure the fire would do for the night, he wrapped his arms around his brother tight, kissed him deep. Wordlessly, he laid Sam down with him, chuckling as Sam yelped at the friction on his well-spanked ass.


End file.
